


Husbands and Lovers

by orphan_account



Category: Master and Commander - O'Brian
Genre: 1000-5000 Words, F/M, Marriage, over 1000 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-05
Updated: 2007-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-04 07:07:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen and Diana have much better sex than Jack and Sophie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Husbands and Lovers

Stephen was always late, and Jack was always just in time. It was just as well, as Jack would have regretted his own tardiness a great deal more; he valued the naval tradition of exactness to a T in matters of strategy and timing. He kept his eye on the goal, unlike Stephen, who could all too easily be persuaded to wander, to follow a passing fancy to wherever it may take him, and to move slowly through the territory, fully enjoying what pleasures he found along the way.

-

The months surrounding Bridget's conception had been harrowing to Sophie, who in the fairly small confines of Ashgrove Cottage could not always help noticing the marital zeal of her housemates, the Maturins. It left its mark on the sitting room sofa as well as the bedsheets, and even the berry bushes some twenty yards from the house; it could sometimes be heard through her own bedroom walls late at night, a rhythmic crescendo beneath her husband's snores. She was deeply disturbed, not only for the sake of her children's morals - Heaven knew she already had her work cut out there, considering the way the seamen comprising much of her household had influenced their speech - but because she could not understand Diana, and never had. How she could so often consent to the brutish act, even to seek it out, was beyond her. It was just as hard to conceive of dear Dr Maturin demanding it sometimes as often as twice a day. At first she thought their arguments might have their basis on this ardent lovemaking, but upon observation it seemed that the arguing itself could induce the ardour.

She could not find it in her heart to leave Jack so wanting, so they, too, took their turns several times during this period; it pained Sophie, and upset Jack, who could not be deceived by her bravest effort at compliance. Her only consolation was that none of the sessions lasted nearly as long as those of the Maturins.

She longed to talk to Diana about these things, but could not bring herself to, for fear of suggesting some reflection on any of the other three; besides, while the coolness between them had long since faded, and Sophie could with a clear conscience call Diana her dear cousin, their friendship could not quite handle the subject of sex; for Sophie, in her heart of hearts, found Diana's promiscuities distasteful and immoral, just as Diana found Sophie's primness dull and offensive.

The closest they ever got to this discussion happened upon a night when Jack rode home early from the town, a good hour before dinner. He had left Stephen behind on a knoll by the road, where he had spotted some unusual fungi, and had promised Jack to walk back in good time. They waited for ten minutes past the dinner bell before filing in, but even so Stephen stayed out past dessert, and had to contend himself with cold kidney pie and leftovers.

He and Jack were still having their cigars and brandy, and the women sat in the sitting room, the children arrayed around the table mistigris for matchsticks. Last night had been Jack and Sophie's latest attempt, and she was still feeling a little sore - she had shifted more than usual at the table, thinking each time how unfathomable it was that this was supposed to bring a woman pleasure. Diana had glanced at her every now and then with a curious expression that only Jack had caught, and mistaken it for a wordless request for salt.

Now Diana said, 'Stephen might be irregular to the point of inconvenience, but he is always genuinely sorry for it, and I hope you will forgive him once more.'

'Oh, of course!' cried Sophie. 'I would never object should he come in the small hours in the night; I should always find him something to put in his mouth, and my best pillows for him to rest on. It is the least that I could do, after all he's done for us.'

'And you'd be well rewarded for it,' said Diana, amusement sparkling in her eye. 'He esteems you highly, you know.'

'Why, it's reward enough to have him with us, the dear, dear man. But then you must know and love him just as I do - better, I mean.'

'It is strange how they say that - to love someone best! Love is not a skill - though it's peripherals might be practiced. Sophia, dear,' and she leaned over, her elbows on her knees, and took Sophie's hands, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone, 'this polite silence is absurd. You are my cousin, and I am loathe to think your marriage--'

She straightened up, cut off by the clank of the door opening as the husbands filed in. Sophie was bright red from embarrassment, and quickly found she simply had to oversee the brewing of the coffee herself, and so she fled to the kitchen.

The subject was never picked up again, and with the coming of Diana's pregnancy and Jack's renewed reluctance to cause Sophie pain, the matter lost much of its urgency.

-

On the night before their sudden departure later that year, Stephen slowly undressed Diana from her splendid dress - button by button, laying her bare, until she was down to her socks. He kissed the downward slope of her swollen belly, buried his nose in the soft hair beneath; and he moved on, discovering her inch by inch all over again.

-

Sophie had had the idea of putting lotion on herself, to smooth the rough abrasion on her intimite parts, but had put the bottle back, red-faced, ashamed of the thought. When Jack descended upon her that night, squeezing her breasts in that strange manner of his, she closed her eyes tightly and thought of the struggling roses, winding their slow, arduous way up the porch posts.

They would need tending, to get rid of the pests, and water, if this draught continued; she reminded herself she should never let them go without the tender care they required.

 


End file.
